


Over the Rainbow

by alabaster_wings



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Fluff, M/M, at least it'll be amusing, fruit fruit fruit fruit, hipster art, i dont actually know very much about footie, inopportune kissing ensues, louis is (predictably) the one with the being gay issues, niam aw, nick and aiden fight over who has rights to harry's curls, now i have a feeling it might turn into a crack fic, oh well, one direction without harry and niall whatt is this, plot twist: One Direction is actually a group of vigilante artists, so im going with it, that looked like a cool tag, this started out as a nice idea, uhoh, um what, whoops, yipee, zayn smolders a lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-04 15:30:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alabaster_wings/pseuds/alabaster_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is famous and in One Direction--the rebellious vigilante art gang that defaces all of London, and so what if he partakes in footie on the side and happens to be maybe-not-really-gay? Harry's a bit of a football fangirl, and so what if he maybe likes fruit too much and vagina too little? When they meet, it's not quite what either one of them expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> just a warning, this may or may not turn out to be plotless smut
> 
> i haven't decided just yet

Rolling over groggily, Harry beat across the bedside table until his massive hand knocked the blaring alarm to the floor. As soon as it hit the hardwood, the alarm on his phone started going off, lost somewhere in the folds of a pair of jeans on the other side of the room. "God _damnit_ ," he groaned, hating himself for being so prepared as he forced his neverending legs out of the comfort of the warm blankets. 

He tripped over what looked to be a tangerine as he stumbled his way over to his phone, digging through his pile of dirty clothes to wiggle it out of a back pocket.

Niall was sitting on the table when Harry tripped his way into the kitchen, wearing only boxers and tube socks and his head in his hands. A brunette with a bolt through her septum was glaring at him, wearing what looked like one of  _Harry's_ button-down shirts.

He shuffled over to the fridge, pulling out an apple and a pomegranate and a tub of cherry tomatoes before turning and addressing his flatmate, "Rovers are playing Leeds today. You comin'?"

"No, he isn't," nose ring answered sharply, turning that glare over to Harry.

He felt his fruits were in danger of wilting under that stare, and he huddled them closer to his chest, "I wasn't talking to you." Not exactly suave with women, he was. Harry thought very strongly that his charms should only be put to use when he knew a lay was in sight.

And pussy just didn't do it for him.

"Nah, don't think I'll make it," Niall grumped, not lifting his head. He was so whipped it was ridiculous.

Harry shrugged, biting into the apple and snagging a banana on his way out of the kitchen. Looks like Harry would need a date in this case, and one that would have to be preferably low maintenence so he could enjoy the footie match. Which meant both Nick and Aiden were out. He could always bring Cara, but that--

Would be perfect.

He dialed and squished the phone between his shoulder and ear as he jumped his way into a pair of semi-clean black skinnys, pulling a Black Taxi bright red shirt over his head. "Cara, babe," he started brightly when she picked up, staring at his reflection in the mirror and shaking out his hair before shrugging and sticking a toothbrush in his mouth.

"No, Harry, I will not go to  _another_ footie match with you."  _Click_.

"Well," he mumbled to his reflection, blinking slowly, "that was rude." 

Niall and nose ring were still where he'd left them when he was on the way out, stopping by the fridge once again to grab the container of pineapple cubes before saying, "Ni, you  _know_ dogs aren't allowed in the flat, and that's  _clearly_ a bitch you've got there."

A frying pan hit the wall next to the door on his way out.

-

"He's gonna puke," Zayn said, conviction in his voice.

Louis didn't feel too invested in their friendship at that moment, "No, I am bloody  _not_. It doesn't matter. I've gotta match, so it doesn't matter. Not until noon tomorrow."

"El's gonna be pissed," Zayn continued, almost cheerfully. He never did like the way she treated Louis.

Louis, on the other hand, didn't care too much since the only reason he tolerated her was because it was "in his best interest" to "not appear gay". So. " _It. Doesn't. Matter."_

"Zayn, leave'em alone," Liam scolded, shaking his head fondly at the two of them. No one had a problem with  _him_ being gay, not that Louis was gay.

Louis huffed, rolling his shoulders, "I'm going down to the pitch now. Try to have fun without me."

So what if he let a guy buy him a drink last night?

So what if they danced?

_So what?_

"Doesn't matter," he huffed to himself, pulling his jersey over his head and running his hands through his fringe. Fans said they miss his hair when it was like this, so he works around Simon and wears it the old way when he's playing footie or taking El on dates.

Which he only does to keep Simon happy.

So.

Stan and Lucas were waiting for him, the former looking amused and the latter looking slightly pinched. Louis huffed again, not allowing either of them to speak, "We're not talking about it. As far as I'm concerned, it didn't even happen. And it's gonna stay that way until  _after_ the game, y'understand?"

Lucas nodded, "Yeah, sure, Lou, yeah." He sometimes got a bit starstruck, claiming that his "sisters" were the obsessed ones. Louis knew that Lucas didn't  _have_ any sisters, but he didn't ever mention it.

"Right then," Stan looked mildly put out, but Louis knew it wouldn't take long for him to get over having to wait a few extra hours to rib him for being caught dancing with a  _bloke_.

_Not_ that Louis was gay.

Rafe, still smarting about Louis taking his spot as a starting defender, didn't much care that Louis  _didn't want to talk about it_ , "Uh oh, boys, here comes the princess. Better get your kit on quick."

Louis ignored it. Stan didn't. "Come off it, mate. We all know you just want Tomlinson to shag you, _but_ we all also know that he won't touch your arse for all the money in the world."

"Damn straight," Louis muttered, shaking his head and doing up his cleats.

"Something you sure aren't," Rafe said under his breath as he shouldered past, making sure to step on Louis' fingers on the way out.

Louis  _wasn't_ gay.

-

"So. Lovely weather," Harry said awkwardly, giving the old lady next to him a big grin.

It was raining.

The lady ignored him. 

Pushing his soaked curls out of his eyes  _again_ , Harry squinted at the watery field before him. Number 28 on the Rovers made an incredibly enthusiastic slide that ended with the ball in the net and the opposing goalie looking  _very_ disappointed in himself. Harry took a bite of pineapple, nodding to himself for lack of getting up and shouting enthusiastically. 

The lady next to him felt differently, jumping to her feet and throwing a small puddle of rain water into Harry's face in her enthusiasm to fling her limbs around wildly and shout about how  _ace_ that goal was. Her false teeth fell out in the process.

Harry estimated her to be at  _least_ ninety years old.

He took another bite of pineapple. 

The phone tucked safely in his jacket started screaming "THE DAMN PHONE IS RINGING" much to the chagrin of the old lady who was now teeth-less. Harry answered it with a flourish, "Grimmy, darling, how lovely of you to call." He wiggled his toes curiously in the small lake forming in his boot.

"You're sitting in the rain at that footie match, aren't you?" Nick knew Harry so well, yet he took  _forever_ to figure out just the right way to suck Harry off.

Harry put it down to his not being easy.

Though, in the scheme of things, he was probably extremely easy.

He popped another pineapple cube into his mouth, "Indeed I am. And the company is  _lovely._ _"_ The last bit was more directed to the old lady than to Nick, and Harry grinned with  _both_ dimples when she swung her purse at him. 

He ducked.

Nick didn't sound too amused. He hardly was. "I'm taking you to an art show tonight. Be dry and pressed by half six."

Harry checked his watch. He found with disappointment that he wasn't wearing one. "Damp and rumpled work instead?"

"No,  _Harold_ , it took  _charm_ to get us into this. Besides, you'll thank me on the off chance that we get arrested and you look  _stunning_ for your mugshot." Grimshaw sounded positively affronted that Harry would even  _suggest_ such a thing, and his voice gave the impression that while Nick would be  _arriving_ with him, they wouldn't be  _leaving_ together.

Oh well.

"Do they take mugshots  _every_ time you get arrested?" Harry mused, because his  _last_ mugshot had been utterly  _horrendous_. 

Nick was pursing, Harry could  _hear_ it, "Yes, Harold. Half six. Or else."

"Or else what?" he asked the dial tone, sighing forlornly when there wasn't an answer. He'd sort of hoped there might be one. "Well, _fuck_."

The old lady swung her purse again.

-

Louis dashed quickly through the rain, diving head-first into the car waiting for him. 

Zayn was sitting in the driver's seat, a pink feather boa around his neck, "Your gay was hardly even showing during the second half."

"Twat," Louis grumbled, shaking his hair wet-dog style all over his best mate in retaliation. 

Liam was sitting in the backseat, face squished up against the window, "Lou, there's nothing wrong with being gay. You read those pamphlets I gave you, right?"

No, Louis most certainly did  _not_ read  _How to Come Out for Dummies_ and  _Being Gay Is a Good Thing_. He had  _dignity_ , contrary to popular opinion (popular opinion being Zayn and his ex-girlfriends and his little sister). "Sure, Liam." 

So what if he was a pathological liar? 

That was no one's business but his own. 

Zayn swerved around a lanky kid with curly hair wilted from the rain. He flipped them off as Zayn gunned it through a yellow light. "I don't understand why we make  _hipster_ art. I  _hate_  fucking hipsters."

"Well, what does the type of art we make have to do with who you fuck?" Louis quipped, because he was drenched and cold and he smelled like wet grass and sweat. 

Liam shoved his face in the space between their seats, reaching out to fiddle with the heater, "We don't make hipster art. We make  _meaningful_ art."

Zayn and Louis both stared at him, and Zayn said, " _Liam_ , we painted a naked woman onto the side of a museum last week.  _How_ _exactly_ is that meaningful?"

" _Because_ , Zayn, we were displaying the freedom women should have to dress how they please in public without being demoralized by men," Liam said casually, shrugging as if he didn't sound like a textbook with legs. 

Louis banged his head against the dashboard, deciding that he needed new friends, "I need new friends."

Unfortunately, that meant he wouldn't be getting new friends.

Zayn slapped the back of his head, "You're not getting new friends, twat."

Liam pursed his lips, "Well, I mean,  _technically_ branching out would be good for him. Give him a chance to meet some nice blokes that'll treat him right."

"I'm  _not_ gay," Louis protested, highly offended that Liam was speaking as if he weren't even in the car.

Zayn ignored him, "Yes, I know this, Liam. I also know that Lou will go for the first fucking hipster he sees just to piss me off. So. No. I veto."

Louis felt the need to defend himself to the dashboard, so he did so, "And I'm in a  _relationship_."

Zayn snorted, nearly swerving into oncoming traffic in the process, "That's not a relationship, sugar. That's called being somebody's bitch."

"Hey, Zayn, remember that time I was  _your_ bitch?" Liam asked politely.

Louis needed new friends.

-

Dressed in black skinny jeans, brown suede boots, and a white t-shirt with a tan button up over it, Harry tried to assemble his hair into some semblance of order. Just because he was Harry and perpetually obsessed with layers, he had on a maroon hoodie and a light brown jacket as well, somehow making it work because he was Harry.

Nose ring was less than impressed, "You look homeless."

"Hipster," Niall corrected, still in his spot on the counter. He was now wearing trousers though.

Harry grinned from ear to ear, giving them a moment to admire his stunning jaw before saying, "Nick and I might get arrested tonight. Be a dear and track my phone if I don't show up by the end of the week."

"Ten four," Niall huffed, looking possibly too occupied keeping himself out of the direct line of nose ring's glare.

Harry didn't blame him.

Nick banged the door open, so he couldn't help his flatmate at the moment, "Harry, love, you look  _dashing_."

"Dry and pressed, as requested," Harry gave a little bow, feeling inornately proud of himself. Nothing in the world was better than getting praise from Nick. 

It usually meant the promise of a good shag.

Harry wasn't so sure this time.

He turned his million-watt smile on nose ring, grabbing the plastic container of cantaloupe slices off the counter as Nick tugged him out the door, "Try not to touch anything, yeah? I hear the asshole disease is going around, and I'd rather not catch it!"

He was pretty sure it was his grandmother's vase that shattered against the wall.

Nick tutted as they clamored clumsily down the stairs, "Harold, darling, you really should use your  _manners_."

"She threw a frying pan at me this morning."

"Did you call her a bitch first?" Nick phrased it like a question, but they both knew the answer.

Harry still had the  _right_ to be upset that she was destroying  _his_ flat, "Grimmy, she has a  _nose ring_. I have  _every right_ to treat her as I please. Besides, I'm not having a threesome with Niall. He lets  _anyone_ put  _anything_ in his body. I'm not comfortable with that."

Grimshaw only rolled his eyes, tucking his hand into Harry's back pocket, "Still believe that your charm's only worth it if you get sucked off?"

Nodding like a demented bobble head, Harry popped open the lid on his container and bit into a piece of cantaloupe, "Spot on, Nicky. Want some?"

Giving Harry's lack-of-ass a healthy pinch, Nick sneered at a seven year old girl who was gaping at them, "No, babe, I don't."

Harry  _hated_ the word babe.

-

Louis slumped down further against the wall, spraying the can of Seafoam Blue spraypaint in his hand down at the floor next to him. He  _hated_ doing these stupid shows. What was so great about watching three sketchy blokes spraypaint a slab of concrete?

Apparently, a lot.

Enough to charge fifty quid a person. 

Zayn snatched the can from him, unknowingly stepping in the puddle of wet paint and trailing half-formed footprints around Louis as he hovered, "Lou, come on, you've been looking forward to this all week."

Louis grumbled, but didn't form actual words.

He was  _protesting_.

Zayn dropped down to his level, their shoulders pressed close together, "C'mon, mate. So what if she doesn't come?"

Eyes shining, Louis huffed and looked up at his best friend, "Zayn, I wanna go home with someone. I wanna go home with a  _bloke_. And I don't want to have to pretend to care when El tells me I'm a terrible boyfriend. And I don't want to have to snog her in public. And I don't want to have to try so hard to be  _straight_."

Times like these were few and far between. 

Zayn still knew what to do though, throwing an arm around Louis' shoulders, "Mate, 've already told you that whatever you decide, whatever you want, I'll be here for you. And Li will too obviously. If you wanna say 'fuck 'em' then we will. We don't need Simon to make money off our art and you don't need El to be normal. Right?"

Louis groaned, "By Monday, I'll be back to needing all that though."

"All you need is twenty seconds of blind courage," Zayn supplied helpfully, squeezing Louis around the shoulders before pushing both of them to their feet. 

Louis wanted to poke Zayn in the eye, "Shut  _up_ , you stupid English major."

Liam appeared holding a can of Montana Gold and another of Atmosphere Blue in his arms, looking positively  _delighted_ with his paint, "Lads, Simon's finally broken down and gotten some new paint."

"Right, because  _Atmosphere Blue_ is going to go  _lovely_ in our  _underwater_ scene," Louis deadpanned, in no mood to be placating. He wanted to go home, drink a bottle of champagne, cry to his mum about how  _hard_ life was, and then sleep until next Thursday.

None of the above were likely.

Except maybe the champagne part.

-

"No fruit allowed."

Things were not going well.

Harry puffed up his chest, getting ready to turn on his  _charm_ for the sake of bringing his cantaloupe in with him. 

Nick placed a hand on said puffed up chest, tutting, "Now, now, Harold, no need to get your feathers all ruffled up." Turning that stunning little smirk on the bouncer, Nick cocked a hip, "Good sir, could you be a dear and hold onto little Harry's fruit for him while we enjoy the no doubt  _spectacular_ show?"

"No."

Nick looked thoroughly deterred, and he turned back to Harry with a shrug, "Put the cantaloupe down, Harold."

Harry slumped, doing as he was told. He followed Grimshaw into the sketchy looking building, sighing dejectedly, "You  _owe_ me, Nicky."

"I let you fuck me on the Eiffel Tower. I don't  _owe_ you anything, mate," Nick said primly, tipping his chin up and surveying the crowd before them like a predator stalked its prey. 

"So I'm paying for my own cab, then?" Harry asked sweetly, feeling somewhat at ease among the quiffs and plaid and just general hipster-ness of it all. Sometimes Nick  _was_ good for something.

Sometimes.

Nick  _pursed_ , sighing dramatically, "Harold, I just payed for you to get here. Now I have to fund your transportation  _home?_ Do I  _look_ like a Sugar Daddy?"

"Well..." Harry tapped his chin, grinning like the little shit he was at Nick's utterly  _offended_ look.

Before they could really get started with their banter, Aiden appeared and looped an arm around Nick's waist, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, "Babe, you made it. Told you this place was great."

Harry frowned,  _refusing_ to feel neglected, "Hi, Aiden."

Aiden gave an absentminded wave, too busy with pulling on Nick's scarf to really pay proper attention.

Squaring his shoulders, Harry huffed and pulled a banana out of his back pocket that he kept there in case of emergencies. If he was going to be ignored by his fuck buddies, then he was going to damn well do something about it.

Nick flicked a glace his way, "No fruit allowed, babe. Remember?"

Harry  _hated_ the word babe.

-

Louis huffed.

Zayn sighed.

Liam was too busy fiddling with his paint holster to notice them.

Zayn elbowed his best mate in the ribs, "Lou, banana boy was eye fucking you.  _While_ sucking on that banana like it was his fucking  _job_. If you don't go home with him, I'll see to it that Liam does."

Louis frowned, squinting at the boy in question. He looked vaguely like the guy Zayn had nearly run over earlier, only less wilted and dripping wet. And he was staring directly at Louis, pretty pink lips stretched around the banana he was "eating" (if you could even call it that). Louis was also fairly sure there was a "no fruit" policy in this place. "Suppose he's a creep. What then?"

"It only matters if he's bad in bed," Liam said helpfully, checking his watch and clapping his hands together. "Alright, lads, showtime."

Louis tore his gaze away from the green eyed god currently fucking his mouth with a  _banana_ , taking his place in front of Liam and Zayn. They had a system for when they did these shows, dumb as it was; they would walk in a straight line from left to right, each of them with a set few colors. Working one right behind the other, it took hardly ten minutes to complete a painting.

And Louis always had to go first.

He  _hated_ that because it meant he had to start out everything, center it, make sure there was ample space for everything, and also do almost the entire background while still moving forward a step every twenty seconds.

_Pressure_.

Rolling out his shoulders and wiggling his hips, Louis stepped up to the sectioned off piece of wall and got to work, starting with  _Atmosphere Blue_ , reaching up on his toes to get the water line and then dropping to his knees to get the sand base started. 

Liam was a step behind, filling in the empty spaces and adding swirls and ripples in the water, bubbles, and even streaks of sunlight. He always did like to add the minute details that neither Zayn nor Louis gave a shit about. That was one of the reasons he was making graffiti art for money instead of as a vandal.

Calm as ever, Zayn added liberal streaks of red and purple and green, forming the seaweed and crabs and even a giant clam with a pearl in the center of it's mouth thing.

It took them four minutes and twenty-three seconds.

Liam counted under his breath.

The three of them bowed at the smattering of applause that came when they finished, Zayn not even bothering to hide his grimace and whispering, "See?  _Hipster_ art."

" _Meaningful_ ," Liam argued, grinning widely because he was Liam and Louis wasn't entirely sure his face could actually form any other expressions.

Louis was too busy winking at banana boy to notice.

-

"What direction do you go in?"

Harry blinked expectantly, waiting for an answer. Not his most charming opening, but he figured it didn't matter all that much since they'd already progressed to eye sex before even exchanging names.

It was really just a formality at this point.

Painter boy didn't seem to agree, eyebrows furrowing, "Um...right?"

"With conviction," Harry demanded, knowing that if he wasn't going to be assertive  _now_ , then there was  _no way_ he'd be assertive  _in bed_.

Blue eyes straighted slightly, trying again and sounding just a tad nervous, "Right. Definitely right."

Harry nodded, squinting slightly, "And why don't you call yourselves Right Direction, then?"

"Why not Wrong Direction," painter boy challenged, though it appeared to be more reflex than intention.

Harry grinned. _This_ was worth his charms. "I suppose I'll have to introduce myself before inviting you back to mine, yes?" The startled, deer-in-headlights look on his face was answer enough. Harry jutted out his hand, displaying only a single dimple so as to maintain the aura of sexiness, "Right. 'M Harry. You can call me whatever you'd like except for babe and Nick."

"Um, Louis. I'm Louis," blue eyes said haltingly, looking only slightly out of his deapth as he grasped Harry's hand, "and--you can call me...Louis."

"Well, Louis, you have lovely cheekbones. Care to go back to mine?" Harry asked patiently, still clutching at blue eyes's fingers. It had been a while since he'd been around someone so shy and  _stunned_ by him, and it was almost enjoyable enough to forget that Nick and Aiden were pointedly shagging  _without_ him.

Almost.

If Louis was flustered before, it was nothing compared to the nearly stricken look on his face at that moment. But he held himself surprisingly in check, even keeping his breathing level and everything, "No. Not until you tell me what's up with the fruit thing. 'S not allowed in here and shit."

Harry absolutely  _preened_ at the mention of fruit. It was one of his favorite things to talk about, right behind rimming and threesomes. Of course, the mention of it's  _prohibitance_ was slightly lackluster on the whole thing. "I like fruit, Louis. I'll show you, if you're up for it. What's up with the walking in a straight line and painting a water scene with  _Atmosphere Blue_?"

Louis was incapable of answering.

Mostly because of the police swarming the building.

But also because Harry was grinning like he'd just won the lottery, his eyes shining dangerously bright. Harry spent a good bit of his time keeping himself locked up in a small little box, only allowing himself fruit fetishes and hipster layering. But in this shady warehouse with a beautiful boy who had Blushing Wine paint smeared just in the hollow of his cheekbone and the thrill of possible-arrest, he just couldn't  _help_ it. 

"Alright, Louis, when was the last time you ran from the Metty's?"

-

Louis knew he wasn't a good decision maker. He  _knew_ this.

But crouching in a bush, with banana boy's knee lodged into his ribcage, and quite possibly a bird nesting in his fringe, not even that Taylor Swift karaoke binge he'd gone through in sixth form could measure up to how _not good_ this decision was.

Harry shifted, his knee slipping so that it was now digging into Louis' kidney or appendix or  _something_ , "We can go now."

Louis frowned, whispering even though Harry wasn't, "Are you sure it's clear?"

"We lost them the minute we turned the block, Louis. Why are you whispering?" Harry furrowed his eyebrows, his nose bumping Louis' as he pressed forward. He flicked a gecko from Louis' fringe, pulling a plastic bag of strawberries out of  _nowhere_.

"You-- _fuck_ ," Louis huffed, shoving Harry onto his arse. Straightening, he shook branches and small creatures out of his hair before bending forward to touch his toes and stop his body from screaming _oh my god it's so fucking cramped_. As small as he was (on the rare occasion he admitted to  _being_ small) there were few things in life Louis hated more than small spaces. 

Harry somehow managed to  _tumble_ to his feet while still looking incredibly and devestatingly gorgeous, "C'mon, then. I  _did_ invite you back to mine, yes?"

Louis straightened slowly, unprepared for just how _intensely_ those green eyes were fixed on his bum. And  _oh_ that one look did more to Louis than any look El had  _ever_ given him. Because he couldn't remember the last time he'd been around a boy this pretty, he blurted, "I have a girlfriend."

Harry didn't even bat an eye, "I have two boyfriends. They're fucking without me because I went to a footie game without them this morning."

"So that's what I am? A substitue?" Louis felt his lips curl, and it took all of his will not to scream or cry or throw a punch (though he hadn't resorted to violence since he was seventeen and he checked some twat on the pitch because Louis was many things at age seventeen, but a  _cockslut_ wasn't one of them). 

"Course not, Lou. Your collarbones are far too nice," Harry said earnestly, eyes wide and lips as red as the strawberry he bit into almost before the words were completely out of his mouth. 

Louis wasn't so sure how believable that statement was, but he  _did_ have nice collarbones, "Yeah, alright, lead the way. My feet hurt."

Harry offered a stawberry, stepping closer and positively  _towering_ over Louis, "I think I'd like to kiss you first. And after. And during. And just a lot in general."

_Something_ fluttered down through Louis' body, something that hadn't even come  _close_ to him since that seven minutes in heaven dare where he'd gotten a handy from some bloke back in his A levels. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with the feeling, "Are you even  _allowed_ to kiss someone you don't even  _know_?"

"It's the collarbones. I do what I want."

-

Harry worried away at his bottom lip as Louis made a slow perusal of his room, still wincing about how well this was going to go when Louis hadn't even let Harry  _kiss_ him. Of course, maybe he was just playing hard to get. Harry wasn't used to that, so there was always the chance he was just reading it wrong. 

Who would want to resist Harry?

Louis took far too long skimming his fingers over the extensive vinyl collection Harry had, finally making his way over to the bed and toeing off his sneakers before shuffling to the center of the mattress and folding his legs under him. He just looked so  _small_ , like the endless expanses of sheets could swallow him up if he layed flat on his back.

Harry had to just stop and stare for a moment, utterly and completely unprepared for just how  _rapturous_ it was to see Louis with his deep-cut collarbones and jutting cheekbones and too big, too unprepared blue eyes. He managed to fumble out of his boots and two of his four layers before speaking, "You look rather enamoring in my bed, Louis."

Louis paled when Harry crawled up toward him, though he didn't stop Harry from nipping gently at the knob of his jaw. His small hands came up, clutching at Harry's unbuttoned shirt, a little bit helpless and a little bit afraid. His voice wavered as he said, "W ~~\--~~ wait. Can you just ~~\--~~...wait?"

So Harry waited.

He sat back slowly, eyebrows raised and lips pursed, "Y'alright?"

Louis turned the same shade as the Blushing Wine, "Um, Ijust...sorry. Nevermind. G ~~\--~~ go again. 'M fine."

Harry didn't believe it, not for even a moment, but he shifted forward again anyway. He stopped before their lips made contact, frowning because he was Harry and even though he was straining against his skinnys, he  _knew_ there was something wrong, "Hey, Louis, we don't have to..."

Louis frowned as well, his cheekbones turning a shade darker than the Blushing Wine on his cheek, "You  _invited_ me to your  _flat_."

"Well, do you  _want_ to?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes and sprawling onto the mattress.

"Well ~~\--~~ no, not exactly. I  _thought_ I did, but ~~\--~~ " Harry probably shouldn't find the stumbling over his words so cute, but he did anyway because he was Harry and he did what he wanted.

So Harry shrugged and tucked his hands behind his head, "Right, well, a no's a no. You can still stay, if you want. Niall's got the most  _ridiculous_ girl here with a  _nose ring_ of all things. But, other than  _her_ , the company's not so bad. And I can whip up somethin' if you want. 'M not a bad cook, though Niall's not much to go by. I have fruit. You like fruit? Or I could put in a movie? I think we have some board games somewhere if ~~\--~~ " he frowned at himself, "Sorry, 'm rambling."

"I won't hold it against you," Louis deadpanned, wiggling around so that his knees were pressed against Harry's side. 

Harry sighed.

Maybe a no wasn't  _always_ a no, because who says no and then sits so close together? 

Louis appeared to be loosening up now that Harry had made it clear there weren't expectations, picking up Harry's wrist and squinting at it, " _What_ exactly can't you change?"

And maybe _Harry_ would have to say no.

He closed his eyes and sighed again, rubbing a hand across his face, "So. Movie?"

-

Rubbing his eyes, Louis fought to keep his head up and off the shoulder next to him. He  _wouldn't_ , he told himself firmly. 

Only, well, he totally would.

Harry tensed noticeably at first, making Louis worry he was overstepping a boundary that  _he_ had set, but then he was relaxing and slouching so that they were a bit better slotted together, "Lou, 'm sorry. For pressuring you or whatever. Didn't know ~~\--~~ "

And he stopped, right there, because Louis sighed very sleepily and contentedly and reached over and placed a hand on his thigh, "S' alright, Harry. I was...I was trying to prove a point, I suppose. By coming with you, I mean. To myself, I mean. That ~~\--~~ well, that I could do what I wanted."

He wasn't entirely sure how much sense he was making.

Harry only sighed, and Louis noticed that he'd been doing that a lot since they'd almost-but-not-even-at-all kissed, "Right. Only what you wanted wasn't what we were doing at all."

Louis frowned, patting Harry's thigh for lack of elloquence, "I'll explain it better in the morning. Promise."

"You don't owe me anything, Louis. Really. I get it. 'M a big boy; I can handle when I get told no." Harry sounded half-heartedly offended, his head coming to rest on Louis' and his words starting to run together like honey on a cold morning.

"I  _know,_ you giant. I  _want_ to, because Zayn's the only person that  _knows_ and I didn't even get to tell him because he's been my best mate for  _forever_ , so you're going to shut up in the morning and  _listen_ because I sat in a  _bush_ for you and now there's probably a colony of geckos in my hair now." Louis crowded closer, because if Harry could like him for his collarbones and eat fruit where fruit wasn't allowed, then he could cuddle with a cute boy and  _not_ be gay.

Harry sounded all soft and gooey, and Louis got an incredibly vivid mental image of Harry being a chocolate chip cookie, "Did you just call me a giant?"

And Louis rolled his eyes even though they were drooping shut, slouching so that he was laying down, fisting his hand in Harry's shirt, "I did. What are you gonna do about it?"

Harry didn't have a retort, and Louis chalked that up to being because it was somewhere around half two in the morning. 

It wasn't until a good five minutes later that Harry turned, his body curling around Louis, "Goodnight, midget."

And, really, Louis  _couldn't_ mind.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> la la loopsy is my fav
> 
> peace out, you dirty lout
> 
> also, there will be plot...maybe
> 
> cheers
> 
> xx


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